Of Flesh and Blood
by Essie Aster
Summary: At times the wolf may hide among the lambs, but if only the invisible are picked off, who will know he's there? Iscariot.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Of Flesh and Blood

Author: Essie Aster

Category: Hellsing

Genre: Drama, Supernatural

Rating: PG (PG-13 later on)

Summary: Reports of disappearances at a Catholic boarding school in North America prompt the Vatican to send a force that isn't supposed to exist to investigate, but dealing with a human adversary is nothing like dealing with the un-dead.

A/N: Get it out of your head right now! I mean it! You crazed pairing-obsessed fangirls, get it out! Iscariot and romance just doesn't work, and therefore there is none in this fic. NONE! And no this is not a Mary-Sue either. It was a random idea that popped up and an interesting situation that came to mind to throw Iscariot into. I'm allowed to make up my own characters without it being a Mary-Sue. Now that that is over with there are two things you will have to forgive me for. One is accents. I can't understand a word out of Anderson's mouth in the manga and I ain't writing that damn accent. Not gonna happen. The other thing is that some of the rituals and traditions are probably off. I'm pure-blooded Protestant so I'm writing with an unintentional slant. This isn't part of the Hellsing timeline, just another random Iscariot fic that could take place at any point. Hope you don't hate it, but not my problem if you do ;) I'm just writing for the fun of it. XD

****

Chapter 1

The day was coming to a close as the sun dipped toward the western horizon. Most of the students at St. Catherine's boarding school were either in the dormitories studying or gathering for the evening meal. The all-girl's school was a quiet, self-contained little world set in the remote hills of southwestern Michigan. The nearest city was over an hour's drive, and the small towns in the surrounding countryside were hardly more than a collection of houses, a school here and there, a church, a pub, several fishing stores, and multiple vacation homes owned by citizens from Lansing to Muskegon. The law in that area consisted of a handful of retired sheriffs and the occasional rookie looking to gain quiet experience before heading to the big cities, though the church was generally left to deal with offenders in its own way.

The campus itself was secluded in a shallow valley, a five minute walk from St. Catherine's Cathedral built on the summit of one of the larger hills. The building was over two hundred years old, the chapel having been built by the French in the mid eighteenth century and later added to by wealthy Irish and Polish immigrants who settled nearby. During the Victorian Age the school was built to train young Catholic girls in the ways of God and decent society. A monastery built within the cathedral housed its caretakers who were among the only small group of men permitted to walk freely on the campus grounds. Here lived also the three priests who headed up the church and school as well as the professors who taught alongside the nuns and served as advisors and caretakers of the roughly five hundred students.

The students were required to keep their school and living areas clean and orderly, though the required duties decreased as the girls advanced through the four year program and began to head up catechism classes for the local parishioners. These said duties were typically performed in the morning, before breakfast, so that the girls would be free to spend time studying and in prayer after the long day of classes, which most actually did. Most, however, not all. There was the occasional butterfly who would sit in the fireside hall and socialize with her friends from the time classes let out until the evening mass. And, of course, there was the girl who never did her work and very nearly flunked out of her classes. And, every so often, there was a girl who stood to the side, apart from the rest. Though her academic profile far outshone the most studious of girls, she was rarely seen studying. In truth, she was rarely seen and of late seemed to disappear completely.

Alyson Johanson did not fit into any mould the school's long history had written. Some called her a trouble maker. Many called her lazy. No one would have labeled her pious. While she held one of the coveted positions at the top of her class, Alyson's teachers merely tolerated her so long as she kept silent and out of the way. Father Emile, the head priest in charge of the congregation of St. Catherine's, as well as the professor of the third and fourth year theology classes, saw the girl as a 'disrespectful whelp in need of a sound beating.'

Sitting in the front pew in the sanctuary with her eyes closed, her elbows rested on her knees and her head bowed, Alyson could have easily passed as sound asleep. Folded between her hands was a small wooden rosary her mother had given her years ago. The clergy knew she rarely said the rosary, a fact which quite irritated them. What they did not know was that she did not sit in the sanctuary, gently fingering the small beads, just to sleep or vex the nuns. What appeared to them as blasphemous defiance was, in truth, an intimate commune with the one they served, if any one of them had cared to look close at the sixteen year old. Alyson did not ignore the nun hissing her name from a side door near the front of the sanctuary. Alyson did not _hear_ the nun. Her eyes opened with a jolt as her spirit was pulled back into the cold shell of flesh when the irritated nun shook her shoulder.

'This is a place of prayer and worship, you insolent girl,' the nun whispered as she tugged on Alyson's arm. 'The dinner bell is ringing. You're already late, again.'

Not caring to defend herself to the older woman, Alyson obediently rose to her feet and, slipping the rosary into the pocket of her uniform skirt, quietly left the sanctuary and headed toward the dining hall. Halfway there she stopped and turned, gazing intently down the narrow two-lane road that lead around the side of the hill. No one ever used that road during the week except Father Mondego, the dean of the school, and Alyson had just passed him on her way out of the cathedral. Nevertheless, she waited and watched. Slowly a black car came around the bend, stopping at the steps of the cathedral.

Father Mondego, a middle aged man with dark but graying hair, strode quickly down the stone stairs and paused at their base as the car parked and turned off. From the back driver's side door exited a priest wearing a simple vested suit and collar. His long hair was bound behind him in a loose ponytail that cascaded midway down his back. Father Mondego extended his hand to greet the newcomer who, in turn, smiled and extended his own greeting which Alyson was too far away to hear. 

A second priest, an older man with short gray hair and a thick mustache, emerged from the other side of the back seat, walking around the car to greet Mondego as the car's final passenger stepped out. Dressed in the simple robes of his office, the tall priest had short blonde hair and wore thin wire rimmed glasses that reflected the light of the failing sun and hid the pale eyes behind them. He rested a gloved hand on top of the car, still holding the door opened with another, and surveyed his surroundings; the dean, the cathedral, the pair of Sisters hustling a first year toward the dining hall. Finally they locked on Alyson's slight form standing in the shade of a flame tinted maple tree. For a moment they did not move, and Alyson felt almost as though the priest was looking right through her, into her very soul.

Tucking an annoying strand of hair behind her ear, Alyson turned and continued her walk to the dining hall, feeling his eyes follow her until she passed through the doors and disappeared into the throng of students.

*****

'Father Maxwell,' the dean greeted with an extended hand. 'St. Catherine's is honoured by your visit.'

Enrico Maxwell shook the older man's hand and smiled. 'We look forward to seeing the work you've done here,' he replied courteously. Father Renaldo appeared from the other side of the car and nodded a silent greeting before shaking the dean's hand.

Returning his attention to Father Maxwell, Mondego went on, 'We just received word yesterday from Rome, though, I must confess, I'm not certain I quite understand the nature of your visit.'

'Just an inspection, Father Mondego,' Maxwell replied, his voice diplomatically neutral and vague.

'Of course,' Mondego smiled to mask his remaining confusion. 'But you must be hungry after your trip. Dinner is about to be served, if you'll just follow me.'

'Thank you,' Maxwell nodded. 'Father Anderson,' he turned to the priest who had his attention focused on the entrance of a large building.

'Thanks, but I'll have to decline,' the tall Scotsman said with a wide grin, turning to the dean as he shut the car door.

Mondego nodded. 'I'll have Brother Peters show you to your quarters.' At his words a young man emerged from the church and gestured for Anderson to follow him. The other guests followed the dean away to the dining hall where the entire student body was assembled.

Brother Peters lead Anderson through the Latin engraved archway and into the cathedral. The narthex was domed with a painted image of heaven and opened out in three directions. Straight forward was the enormous sanctuary and the dozens of neatly ordered pews all lined in velvet cushions. At the left wing of the sanctuary was the old pipe organ, the pipes partially hidden in the panels of the wall. At the front right of the sanctuary knelt a sculpture of Saint Catherine with her head tilted gently upwards. Next to Saint Catherine was placed the Blessed Mother whose arm was outstretched in a blessing. In two rows along the length of the sanctuary multiple busts of saints sat on shelves in between the tall stained-glass windows. But beyond the silver lined baptismal font and delicately styled alter hung a twelve foot by six foot crucifix, the reproduction of Christ painstakingly detailed down to the drops of blood seeping from beneath the thorny crown. Alexander Anderson paused a moment beside the porcelain basin of holy water to survey the rare beauty of the American sanctuary before turning down the left corridor as directed by Brother Peters.

The corridor branched off in several places, into lavish room that were untouched by all save for cleaning, and also into other narrow hallways leading to even less frequently used rooms. The air was quiet, peaceful on the surface with a hint of unrest below. The only sound came from the soft treads of the two men and the nervous breathing of the monk in the lead. It was not too long until Alexander was lead to turn down one of the branching halls, plainly built with stone flooring and clean but rustic walls. This new passage was almost a world apart from the rest of the elegant cathedral they had left behind. The first door on the left was the one designated for the Vatican's emissaries' stay. The Brother unlocked and opened the door for the priest who opened his mouth to say a thanks but was cut short.

'Th - thank you,' the young man stumbled quietly, his eyes shifting nervously past the tall figure into the open corridor beyond. 'For coming, that is. You're a godsend.' With that the man turned and hurried off down the hall and ducked inside of an entrance on the opposite side.

*****

Meals were served in silence by students on academic probation or as penance for not adhering to one of the school's many rules. The most common rule broken was done in the dining hall - talking during meal time.

The bell sounded fifteen minutes before the meals were served. Every member of the school was expected to be on time or go without. Father Emile began the meal by solemnly rising from his seat at the head table in from of the standing students and pronouncing a blessing over the food, humbly thanking God for his generous sustenance, then reminding the students to nurture not only their bodies, but also their souls, for, as he loved to recite, 'man does not live by bread alone.'

'But by every word that floweth from the mouth of God. Amen.' As one the room's occupants made the sign of the cross and mouthed the closing proclamation. Father Emile was the first to take his seat, followed by the staff at his table, and then the body of students and faculty at the rows of tables opposite.

Alyson was one of the students serving the evening meals for the entire week as punishment for missing Brother Cullen's lecture on "The One True Church," though she had already missed two of the days so far. The humiliation intended by this servitude hardly bothered Alyson, only more it pleased her to be an imitator of the Saviour's own humble service. It was the silence imposed on the student body that bothered her the most. It was an outdated practice, this meal time silence, and it had only just recently been brought back by Father Mondego when he had taken the office of Dean only a few months ago. When before the understood rule was that if the nuns at the ends of each table could hear you, you were too loud, Mondego claimed that it was un-ladylike and irreverent. Therefore, no speaking was permitted from the time Father Emile rose for the blessing to the time the girls exited the hall.

'I'm still not I quite understand this new "quiet" rule,' Alyson commented aloud as she served the meal, well after Father Emile's blessing. A sharp gasp echoed from the students and instructors as one. No one moved or spoke. 'What if I have a question?' Alyson continued, not looking up as she continued her duties. 'Or are questions forbidden as well? Of course, while the Holy Scripture _does_ warn us of false teachers who would lead God's children astray, we shouldn't question God's servants. Do forgive me. Nevertheless, perhaps the eleven missing students are proof of the wolf hiding among the flock.' Alyson paused in her service and looked up to the table at which two of the newly arrived visitors were seated, as well as Father Emile and Father Mondego. It was first to Mondego that she briefly glanced as she continued her forbidden speech, her eyes gliding midway to focus on Father Renaldo and then to settle on Father Maxwell's emerald stare.

'I thought perhaps our visitors from the Vatican should like to be aware of the situation into which they've arrived.'

'That's quite enough, Alyson,' Father Mondego interrupted. Alyson's eyes did not move from Maxwell's, and Mondego gestured for one of the sisters to stop the girl.

'What happened to Nadine, Father Mondego?' Alyson asked, not looking at him or the approaching sisters. 'And Ivy, and Karen?' Alyson was on fire, and she had no intention of stopping. Her only close friends had all disappeared less than a week ago, and they had not been the first. Over the past months students just - disappeared; students with little or no connections to their families, students who caused too much trouble or asked too many questions, or students who only existed as a name or perhaps a face in a classroom, and no voice. No one with in the school would speak of it. The students were too afraid, and the teachers denied the problem existed.

Two sisters hushed Alyson from either side and tried to hustle her out of the dining hall. Those who had looked down in embarrassment in the beginning now stared openly with the rest at the confrontation.

'Where did they go, Father? How do twelve people suddenly vanish without a trace?' Alyson pushed, barely raising her voice above the sisters'.

'Sister Nora,' Mondego looked at one of the women trying to silence the student. The big woman took a firm grip on the girl's right arm and forced her from the room. Obediently, Alyson said nothing and did not fight back, only continued to stare blankly at the occupants of the head table. 'Please forgive her behaviour,' Mondego apologized to the visitors, appalled that one of his students would behave in such a manner in front of the pope's representatives. Then again, how had she known?

Maxwell waived the incident aside, following the girl out of the large room with his eyes as the rest of the students returned to their silent meal.

*****

'Nadine was sent home, Alyson, as you full well know,' Sister Nora scolded the girl standing in the foyer of Mother Ruth's office. Alyson's auburn hair hung over her expressionless face as she stood silently with her head bowed. Gently touching a small gold locket around her neck, Alyson determined not to speak to the pacing nun.

'To embarrass our school over _this_!' she continued.

'Sister Nora,' an elderly female voice interrupted, 'that will be all. Thank you.'

Calming herself instantly, Sister Nora nodded to the older woman and departed silently.

'Come child,' Ruth gently invited Alyson into her office.

Alyson sat in the simple high-backed chair in front of Ruth's cluttered desk as the woman retrieved a small napkin-bound bundle and handed it to the girl. 'You must be hungry, missing supper like that.'

'Thank you, Mother,' Alyson replied respectfully, taking the roll that was offered to her.

'Well, I'd say after three years we've gotten to know eachother fairly well, wouldn't you, Alyson?' Ruth began, seating herself across from the student in her own uncomfortable-looking chair.

Alyson replied with an embarrassed half-smile and nod.

'Father Mondego's quite upset with you this time. Do you know who his visitors are?'

'Emissaries from the Vatican,' Alyson responded.

'Yes, and they're here to do a report on the school.' Ruth sighed, knowing she would not get anywhere using this course. 'Your friends went home, child, all for their own reasons. The files are confidential. I'm not permitted to tell you what those reasons are.'

'Yes, Mother,' Alyson replied.

For a long stretch of time the two were completely silent. Alyson sat submissively with her head slightly bowed, looking at her hands and the soft lump of bread she held while her hair created blinds on either side of her face. Ruth was leaning slightly forward, her hands folded on her desk, looking intently at the student in front of her.

'Don't mock me, Alyson,' Ruth broke the silence. 'I'm not your enemy.'

Alyson looked up at her elder, her soft brown eyes revealing nothing of what she felt inside. Was she mocking the woman? No, but she could see how her behaviour could be perceived as mockery, so she remained silent and let the woman continue.

Ruth took a deep breath before resuming her monologue. 'Nothing we do seems to get through to you. I don't even know what to do with you anymore. I called your father. He wants us to send you home.'

For a brief moment Alyson felt her blood run cold as Ruth's eyes made contact with her own.

'I'm not going to ask what you think about that. Nor do I think it would be safe for you to return home. But if you continue your behaviour you will not graduate from this institution, and we will have no choice but to return you to your father's custody, or hand you over to the state. I believe the prospect of that is punishment enough for the time.'

As the seven o'clock bells started to chime Alyson felt fear rising in her, an almost physical sensation that she could not shake.

'You'll be late for mass if you don't hurry,' Ruth informed Alyson as she rose to hold open the door to her office. Alyson stood obediently and exited the room, staying at the back of the chapel as the evening mass began.

A/N: Do I update regularly? No. But I do know where and how this fic is going, so eventually it will continue, just no guarantees as to when ;) oh, and don't bother asking about other members of the Hellsing cast, cause the answer is NO!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Writing this I'm kinda figuring that this isn't going to be a very long fic. I could draw it out and make it all suspenseful if I really wanted, but I don't really want, so I'm not gonna. I'd rather this be a story to read for enjoyment rather than a mystery where you've gotta use your brain - which is also good, but mine is so packed full of Kanji and phrases that it's not working well in English, so yeah. Basically this is gonna move fast. Chapter 1 set it up, this chapter's gonna start the action. I can't imagine it will get over six or seven chapters, honestly, and that would be drawing it out. So yeah. enjoy.

****

Chapter 2

For some people nighttime is a time of peaceful solitude, a time to meditate, a time to rest. For others it was a time of suspicious fear, fearing the unknown shadows that hid in the darkness. For those who knew what was there, nighttime was a time to be alert, a time to watch. The darkness revealed what the daylight hid. In the darkness shadows came alive.

The chapel was quiet, vacated hours ago by the mass of students and teachers who had since retired to their dorms. Significantly smaller and less ornate than the cathedral's sanctuary, the chapel nevertheless housed similar statues of both the Holy Mother, Saint Catherine, and a detailed crucifix standing upright against the far wall behind the altar. Surrounding the base of the raised platform was a communion rail preceded by a slightly lower step, portions of which were cushioned in red velvet, not unlike the cushions of the main sanctuary.

The lights had all been darkened, and only the flicker of the eternal flame served to illuminate the room. The red glow cast deep shadows within its perimeter of influence, darkening the kneeling figure at the base of the steps to the altar. A glance into the chapel would have overlooked the slight abnormality. The doors were open, however, and one passer-by lingered long enough for his ear to catch a soft whisper.

'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been two days since my last confession.'

How the girl knew he was there, Enrico could hardly guess. There was no motion in the chapel, though his vision was directed to the very edge of the red halo of light and the young woman kneeling with her head buried in her hands. After the barest hesitation Enrico stepped forward into the chapel, instantly feeling a powerful presence filling the room. The air was calm and warm, a warmth that seeped through to the soul and alleviated the weariness of the heart.

'You can be assured that your Father in Heaven hears you, child,' he responded after a silent moment.

In the darkness the figure moved, kneeling erect to gaze at the figure of Christ before her. Enrico did not need to see her face to recognize the girl who had spoken during the meal, he had recognized her voice, and something inside of him told him to wait and listen to what she had to say. Call it a gut feeling, call it divine guidance, whatever it was, Enrico was there to investigate, and this was the second time Alyson had initiated contact.

A week ago the Vatican had received word of unusual occurrences in this region - unnatural signs that were believed to be signaling the apocalypse, sightings of supernatural beings lurking in the forests, children gone missing without a trace. Investigation was delegated to Section XIII, whose lower ranked workers dug into the reports to validate them, in the process contacting the regional Bishop, who in turn passed along a hastily written letter he had almost discarded. The letter was anonymous, but spoke of the issue Alyson had brought up a few hours before, pinning the area around St. Catherine's as the focal point of the disturbances. And so the three priests had come in person to clear the mystery, purposefully sending last minute notification and arriving under the pretense of inspection. Enrico had not expected the threads of this mystery to be so easy to locate.

Alyson was not one to trust easily, she had learned that lesson long ago, but at this point she hardly had a choice. Whether the priest believed her or not was out of her control. If this man was like the others, she would quickly learn.

'I'm afraid,' she whispered, staring through the darkness to see the face of the figure on the cross. Her breath was shaky, and she could feel her insides trembling as she forced herself to continue. 'I'm afraid, and I don't know what to do anymore.'

'Fear itself isn't a sin, Alyson,' Enrico said, looking from the girl to the cross as he stopped midway down the aisle, his hands clasped behind his back. 'It's what you do with the fear that's important.'

Alyson twisted around to look behind her, the dim light just barely reflecting on the wet streaks below her eyes. 'But I don't know what to do,' she said, her voice choked.

'Why don't you ask _Him_?' Enrico suggested, gesturing toward the crucifix with a nod.

Alyson turned away and looked at the floor. For a moment she did not move, then slowly she lifted her eyes again to the cross and choked back a rush of tears. 'I know He hears me, Father,' she stated. 'But at times I feel like He doesn't care anymore. I know that it's wrong, but it's hard to not feel... abandoned. My only friends have disappeared, and all I keep hearing is that they went home, but I can't believe that. And now they're threatening to send me home, and I'm scared that I'll disappear, just like Ivy.' Alyson fell silent, her hand unconsciously traveling to the small locket at her throat. For a long time Alyson remained that way, lost in her own thoughts and unaware of the man walking closer to her.

'You said it yourself that you should not question God's servants,' Enrico pointed out from the front pew where he had taken a seat.

Though still lost in her thoughts Alyson quickly responded, 'But we are also told to beware of false teachers and test the spirits to see if they are truly from God.' Enrico nodded silently in approval as Alyson's sightless eyes continued to search the darkness for something he could not see. 'This place,' she continued after a while, 'there's something wrong with it. Can you feel it, Father?'

'Tell me what you feel,' the priest commanded gently in place of an answer.

'I don't know how to describe it. It's darker than anything I've ever felt before, malicious, pure evil, but hidden. Everywhere I go I can feel it following me and watching me, except here. It stops at the doors and watches from the other side.'

Enrico subdued a slight shiver running down his spine as the girl spoke. Yes, he could feel something here, a silent watcher of sorts, but to hear it described from the lips of one so young...

'It used to be peaceful at night. I could sit outside and not be afraid, but now I hardly want to leave here after evening mass. I haven't slept in my bed for three days,' Alyson confessed, coming out of her daze and turning her eyes to meet the priest's. 'I've been too afraid to walk back to the dorms, even with the other girls. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I know there's something out there.' She bowed her head, still facing Enrico though her voice dropped to barely a whisper. 'That's why I'm afraid. I know it's selfish, and maybe you think I'm crazy. I know what my record says, and it's not something I'm proud of. But what I'm feeling is real. I've seen evil before, and it's back and stronger. And I don't know what to do.'

Taking his eyes off the girl's shadowed figure, Enrico stared into the deep shadows on the other side of the altar. 'I'm not the one to give you the answers you're looking for,' he spoke after a moment, rising to his feet. 'But you're in the right place to find them. I can't condone you staying here again tonight. Rules are set in place for a reason.'

'Yes, Father,' Alyson responded quietly.

'God has heard your prayers, Alyson. You can rest with the assurance that your sins are forgiven.' 

After another long silence Enrico turned away and began to walk back toward the open doors when Alyson's quiet words turned him around again to face her. 'The others, they're knights, aren't they?' she asked, her voice set to imply that she already guessed the answer.

'In a way,' Enrico replied, impressed by the girl's intuition. 'In a way everyone is,' he continued, guarding his words.

Alyson nodded and turned back to the cross. After the priest had left the chapel she slowly rose to her feet and, bowing in reverence, stepped up onto the landing and circled behind the altar. The figure of Christ towered three feet above her as she looked to its delicate features.

'I need you, Father,' she whispered, clasping her hands in front of her and calling out with her heart. 'Show me what to do.' For a long time she stood in total silence, her face tilted upward and her eyes closed gently. At some point part of her mind registered a lightness of her spirit. She felt detached from the world and bathed in a warm glow. Surrounding her was an invisible radiance that held up her body as her spirit was released from its shell.

To describe in words what took place would be to confine the event in the bounds of human imagination. Like the Apostle John in his prison at Patmos Alyson entered the throne room of Heaven to be shown part of what was to come. As her spirit watched in horrified awe she could only fall to her knees and cry.

'Why?' was all she wanted to know when the revelation was ended.

'Because it is what you chose, my child,' an indescribable voice replied from all around her.

Looking up through tear-filled eyes, Alyson stilled at the vision before her. His face shone with an almost blinding radiance as He approached her and knelt down to her level. Eyes that had seen all of the ages both past and future gazed tenderly into her own with such compassion and love that Alyson was left speechless at their depth. Giving the girl His undivided attention and care, His hand took hold of her hands and He reached out to wipe the streams of tears from her cheeks.

'This is what I made you for, Alyson, to be my soldier,' He explained, keeping eye-level with the awestruck girl. 'You gave yourself to me, without restraint, pledging your life to my service. Now is your time to fight for my kingdom. I will not permit anymore of my children to be taken by the darkness.'

'Then my friends are -'

'With me now, and free from their pain.'

'What happened?' Alyson asked, yearning to know what had taken the lives of her friends, and what was coming for her.

'It is not for you to know,' He replied, easing the ache in her heart to bearable as he softly brushed Alyson's hair away from her face. 'Do not be afraid, my daughter,' He comforted, pulling Alyson into a fatherly embrace. 'You will never be alone. I will be there with you, and I have sent my servants to fight with you. Listen to them. Follow their guidance. Have faith in me, Alyson. I will not let you fall.'

Alyson closed her eyes, clutching His robes tightly as she experienced the embrace of a loving father for the first time. 'I don't want to go back. Let me stay with you,' she pleaded, her voice muffled in the folds of His clothes.

'You will be with me, for I am coming with you.'

*****

'Alyson... Alyson!'

Alyson moaned and rolled over, pulling her quilt up over her shoulder and holding tighter to a small pillow.

'Alyson, good Lord, girl, you're gonna be late for class!' Alyson's spunky first-year roommate hissed as she pulled the covers off of the older girl. Alyson shivered in her light pajamas and curled into a tighter ball, not bothering to reach out for the stolen blankets. 'After yesterday don't think your missing breakfast didn't go unnoticed,' the girl chattered on as she went about finding a fresh uniform for Alyson and throwing the garment pieces onto her semi-conscious roommate. 'The whole school's talking about it. Mondego's pissed. How did you know they were from the Vatican anyway? ALYSON! Will you get your lazy ass out of that bed and get ready for class?!'

'Quit swearing,' Alyson mumbled, her words almost lost in her pillow. Suddenly Alyson came to full consciousness and sat bolt upright in her bed. For a moment she looked around the room, confused, before glancing at her pale purple pajamas and the plaid skirt laying next to her on the bed.

'Hello? Anybody alive in there?' the younger girl asked, knocking on the top of Alyson's head.

Annoyed, Alyson dodged the last few raps and brushed the girl's hand away. 'Why didn't the alarm go off?' she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and stretching her shoulders.

'It did, two hours ago. _You_ just didn't hear it. What time did you get in last night, anyway? I didn't hear you come in,' Alyson's roommate continued, sitting on the other bed perpendicular to Alyson's and arranging her notebooks for the day.

'I don't remember,' Alyson answered, grabbing her clothes and shuffling out into the hall, quickly heading toward that floor's community showers.

The first-year looked up as Alyson left and shook her head. 'Whatever.'

In less than fifteen minutes Alyson was walking quickly to her first class of the day with her heavy theology books in her arms and her still wet hair dripping from a thick bun at the top of her head. She barely made it to the class on time, receiving an aggravated look from Father Emile as she took her seat at the back of the room. It was scarcely ten minutes into the elderly priest's lecture, however, when class was interrupted by Sister Nora who had been sent to retrieve Alyson from class. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Alyson began to gather her books and rose to follow the nun. 

'Leave your books, Miss Johanson,' the woman ordered curtly.

Alyson obediently replaced her books on the small desk and followed the nun to the first level of the academics building.

'I must disagree with this, Father Mondego,' Alyson heard Mother Ruth's voice through a partially opened door.

'As of right now, it's not your call,' a deep voice replied crisply from the same room.

Alyson felt her heart stop and she closed her eyes briefly. _Please, God, not him,_ she prayed. 

When she opened her eyes she was walking down a narrow passageway, its walls made of carved stone that echoed the sound footfalls and the distant sound of voices. The way was lit by a glow approaching at an unreal and ever increasing pace. When the light was close enough to see, Alyson was able to discern a single figure holding up a torch and staring at her, his face engraved with a malicious smirk and his eyes dancing with amusement at her horror.

'No,' Alyson whispered aloud as more of a plea than a denial.

'Keep quiet for a change,' Sister Nora demanded as they crossed the marble tiled floor to the foyer of Father Mondego's office.

__

Help me, Father. I don't know if I can bear this, Alyson cried inwardly, her eyes focusing on the back of a black suited figure visible through the entryway of the office. The man turned as the door was opened completely and Father Mondego held his arm out in a gesture for Alyson to enter.

'Come in and sit, Alyson,' he commanded, indicating one of two chairs arranged side by side before his desk.

Alyson straightened her posture as she passed through the door, leaving the nun on the other side and nodding respectfully to the man in the black suit.

'Hello, father.'


End file.
